


Priorities

by Soquilii9



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 10:38:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8098936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soquilii9/pseuds/Soquilii9
Summary: Based on 'One Small Step'
DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters and the premise behind Star Trek.





	

With the final shrill of the bosun's whistle, the dignified military funeral service for Lieutenant John Mark Kelly, 21st century Mars Orbiter astronaut, came to a close. After dismissing the crew, Captain Kathryn Janeway remained for a moment, watching the pod containing his body drift into the void. _Continue to explore, Lieutenant._

She felt deeply the circumstances of his death so many years ago – alone and so far from home. She could not justify bringing his body home; still too many unknowns in their own journey. His remains might come to an ignominious end should Voyager be captured or destroyed. He deserved better than that, so she had freed him from the graviton ellipse to drift among the stars. Whatever power created them would watch over him better than she could.

_I’ll attempt to contact his ancestors upon our return to the Alpha Quadrant_ , she thought. _They’ll want his last personal logs_. Starfleet of course, would request Lieutenant Kelly’s data logs; by the time they were downloaded, no time would be lost in setting history straight. The data he had sacrificed his last few moments of life to record would no doubt be of inestimable value.

_Why should mere data be so highly valued?_ She pondered. _Lieutenant Kelly valued it above his life. So now we have the data at the cost of John Kelly. Strange._

A glance at the chronometer; she must return to duty. The first item on her full schedule was a talk with her First Officer. Resolutely, she headed to Sickbay.

Commander Chakotay lay fully clothed in Sickbay, impatiently anticipating his release from captivity. He had chafed there for the last two days, gaining some strength and mobility, but as yet the Doctor had not seen fit to release him for duty. Perhaps donning his uniform would hurry things along. He kept telling himself that the residual ache in his muscles was minor; he'd had much worse bumps and scrapes during his days with the Maquis. He’d been bitterly disappointed, not being allowed to attend Lieutenant Kelly’s last rites. Listening instead through the ship’s comm, he’d come close to tears, for Seven's surprisingly heartfelt eulogy had touched him deeply.

_She understands,_ he was thinking as he listened. _She knows now, how much it all meant._ He strained to hear her last whispered message to the closed casket: _The Yankees in six games._ Seven had taken a giant step toward understanding humanity in that moment.

He sat up on the biobed, ignoring the stab of pain in his chest and lower back and the ache in his head brought on by the change in his position.

'Doctor?'

The holographic EMH emerged from his office. 'What _now_ , Commander?'

'I have to return to duty.'

'Oh?' asked the Doctor facetiously. 'Are we at Red Alert? Is there some emergency of which I am not aware?'

'Look, Doctor, I'm _fine_. I've been in here two days!' In a last-ditch effort, he bluffed, 'The Captain needs me on the bridge.'

The Doctor studied the readouts from the medical tricorder in his hand, eyebrow raised in disdain. 'In case you didn't know, Commander Chakotay, I outrank the Captain in these matters. I will decide whether or not you are fit to return to duty,' he replied in a condescending tone. 'Your condition remains only fair.' He closed the device and deigned to look at his patient. 'You've put on your uniform, I see. Well, sorry to disappoint you, Commander, but you'll be restricted to Sickbay at least another two days. Lie down.'

The perturbed EMH placed a firm hand against Chakotay's shoulder and none too gently shoved him back. He raised the bioshell, effectively securing his patient to the bed. Tapping controls imbedded in the bioshell, the Doctor administered a mild sedative and dematerialized the uniform.

Chakotay fumed as the Doctor returned to his work, humming an air from _Quando_ _la Donna e Mobile_. However, he had to admit that he felt better supine; the headache vanished almost instantly. Then the Sickbay doors hissed open; the pounding in his temples returned; for the Captain was purposefully heading his way. She nodded a greeting to the Doctor in passing, who vanished as though by pre-arranged agreement.

_Doesn't look good,_ thought Chakotay. He waited, apprehensively.

Captain Janeway halted, taking in his half-nude body in a swift glance; her expression a mixture of stern discipline and concern. Chakotay thought he saw a mischievous gleam of appraisal in her eyes, as well. _Or was it the sedative?_ At long last, Janeway spoke and her voice was all business.

'Commander. How are you feeling?'

'Better than anyone thinks - including the Doctor,' he replied, defiantly.

'So I hear - you've been pressuring him to release you early.'

'I'm ready for light duty at least, Captain.'

'I disagree, Commander. You took a massive surge of electrical energy through your body. You had severe burns, a serious concussion, and internal injuries. You suffered additional injuries when the ellipse returned to subspace and we had to tractor the Delta Flyer. We very nearly lost you. What I want to know now is why you disregarded my order to return to Voyager the minute I relayed the message about the dark matter asteroid?'

_She of all people should know why._ Masking his irritation, he patiently explained. 'We had configured a tractor beam for the Ares Four; we only needed a minute to lock on!'

'If I recall, I told you to get out of there _immediately_. Furthermore, I did _not_ authorize adapting the tractor beam. That was _your_ idea.'

'It was my call.'

'A damned bad one.'

'Captain...' Chakotay paused, searching for words. 'This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I had to try for it.'

'There have been those who’ve sought out relics at the risk of their very lives, throughout history,' Janeway conceded, pacing back and forth. 'The search for the Holy Grail, for instance. Artifacts from the Titanic. Captain Picard's searches for the Tox Uthat and the Psionic Resonator. I'm not saying these relics are worthless, Chakotay...but they are after all, only inanimate objects. They look fine in museums and it's nice to have them around to see and touch; to connect us with our past. But they’re as mortal as we are. Remember the massive effort to preserve the wall on which Da Vinci’s _Last Supper_ was painted?’

He nodded.

'They managed to protect it for 600 years before it finally crumbled to dust during the Eugenics Wars. Relics don’t last forever.'

'Neither do people,' he grimaced. His body was trying to tell him that now.

Janeway’s voice softened. 'But people are far more important than relics. People are our ultimate future. We can’t reach for the future if we keep such a tight grip on the past.' She leaned companionably on the edge of the biobed and brought her face within inches of his. 'This is not a formal reprimand, Chakotay. Just a reminder of our priorities.'

'Yet you approved the decision to enter the anomaly,' he countered.

'I had less at stake - hours, not minutes. What I'm trying to tell you is that while I know this was a once in a lifetime opportunity...' her voice broke. She brought a hand to her throat in a gesture he had seen so often and loved in her before continuing, '... _you_ are a once in a lifetime First Officer...and my friend...and that as such, you are worth more to me than the remains of the Ares Four.'

Tears welled in his eyes and he blinked them away. They smiled at each other, each feeling the unique bond between them grow ever stronger.

'There's something else I wanted to tell you, Chakotay. I don't know how you did it, but you somehow taught Seven more about the depths of humanity in those few minutes on the Mars Orbiter than I’ve been able to in months. You're a better teacher than I; you succeeded where I failed. I owe you one.'

To his utter astonishment, she swiftly bent and lightly touched her lips to his forehead. She was gone before he could utter a word, and he heard her reactivate the Doctor before the doors to Sickbay closed.

'Well, Commander,' said the EMH, apparently under the assumption that Chakotay had just received a thorough dressing down, 'I hope you'll listen to the Captain better than you do to me.'

He didn't quite understand Chakotay's contented smile.

 

The End

 

References:

Tox Uthat – TNG - Captain's Holiday. Two Vorgons traveled from the 27th century to find this missing weapon from the future...a weapon supposedly hidden in the 24th century by its time traveling inventor.

Psionic Resonator – TNG - Gambit. An isolationist group on Vulcan hired a mercenary to find and reassemble an ancient Vulcan psionic resonator - a weapon that makes it possible to kill with a single thought.

Leonardo Da Vinci painted the Last Supper in 1495. According to Star Trek canon, the Eugenics Wars took place in 2100.


End file.
